Dry Nose. Zombies.

Just arrived at Dubai International and found a seat in the public waiting area / zombie invasion outpost. At this time of the morning, a dry, functional seat is something of a rarity. I heard the pilot say that around 1am is peak time in Dubai. Half of us are squatting, the other half are walking pictures of the living dead themselves, aimlessly strolling the isles apparently looking for something SOFT AND FLESHY…

I found a seat on the plane next to a first-time Seoul teacher called Jaco, a strapping, dark-haired, handsome Afrikaans man of about 26. His equally attractive, strawberry blonde girlfriend Lydia came to visit us from a few rows back, chatting ebulliently every time. Lydia is like a re-incarnation of the rosy-cheeked cartoon TV character Heidi of my childhood, laughing madly at everything, Siberian Husky-blue eyes sparkling in the darkness, gaily running over the Swiss hills, carefree, pigtails swaying in the wind. She even seemed simulcast into English as she periodically whipped over to sit at Jaco’s feet and openly adore him. They will be the FIRST TO GO…

Situations like these are really democratic, at least for everyone who doesn’t have access to the VIP louge. Businessmen are camped on the floor in order to access in-demand power outlets. Previously glamorous women are lying unflatteringly across four open seats, a flash of careless waistline skin escaping here and there. It’s a magnificent cross-section of zombie globe-trotters, the type of thing you couldn’t imitate in a blockbuster. And the diversity of flesh-seekers! The reason it’s called the Middle East is abundantly clear.  But the undead KNOW NO SKIN COLOR.

I have managed to eke from this desperate aftermath a free bottle of fresh drinking water. Some equally distracted soul had left two durhams in both the soft drinks vending machine and two in the adjacent change machine. Total price for the bottle was four durhams, a charming co-incidence and a reminder that God also operates in Arabic countries. I may take the empty bottle on the plane so as to ask the stewardess for a refill instead of laying waste to yet another single-serving plastic cup. This way I save the planet from 39,000ft, as if the MURDEROUS DEVILS CARE EITHER WAY…

ETC…

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